Hear You Me
by Gaspazha Belikova
Summary: "If you were with me tonight, I'd sing for you just one more time." Dimitri Belikov and Rose Hathaway used to be joined at the hip. However, at the age of eighteen, Dimitri managed to land a record deal, which tore the duo apart too soon. When Dimitri takes a break from singing and visits his family for Christmas, will they rekindle their friendship, or will greater sparks fly? AH.
1. Prelude

**_Hello there!_  
**

**I hope you guys like this story. I'm very excited about writing it, but I can't promise any next-day updates. (Sorry!) I have this thing where I write my chapter and then I edit it, then edit it, and then edit it some more. So, it will probably take around a week for an update. Also, I promise that my chapters will be longer than this one. This is kind of tester chapter. I don't know if you guys will like this story. I hope you do though!  
**

**_Enjoy and thank you for viewing!_  
**

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_**Chapter One **  
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_**"Prelude"**_

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_**Monday 13th September 2010  
Roshcha, Russia  
Rosemarie Hathaway**_

Balancing the bowl of cereal precariously on my raised knees, I watched the television screen with ardent interest, spooning cornflakes into my mouth every time _he _wasn't mentioned. Truthfully, I was ashamed of myself, so ashamed that I wanted to bury my head into something, like a bunch of pillows, and drown in my self-pity. I shouldn't have been curled up on the sofa, watching an idiotic awards ceremony just to see _his _face. I should have been doing something much more productive, like marking books for my new job or something. But no, I grunted, instead I was wearing a stained t-shirt that was around before the dinosaurs came to earth. A t-shirt, I realised with a guttural moan, that belonged to _him._

Even though I knew it was pathetic of me, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen. There, standing on stage and clutching a golden envelope, was none other than Lady Gaga, who was last year's prestigious winner. Trotting up to the microphone, she placed her hands on either side of the podium and leaned in, giving a speech about how it was an honour to give out the award. I rolled my eyes. So far, every presenter had said exactly the same thing. Their speeches just seemed meaningless to me, but the audience still leaned forwards in their seats, eating up every word that came out of the celebrity's mouth. I started to laugh at their idiocy, but soon stopped when _he _was nominated. God, I was such a hypocrite.

The camera promptly panned to _his_ face, letting us all see his shocked and humble expression. I sighed. Dressed in an expensive tailored suit, he was as handsome as ever, but so, so different. In fact, the only thing about him that I could recognise, was his hair. Shoulder-length and tied back at the nape of his neck, his luscious locks were a light-brown colour and so soft that I itched to run my fingers through them. Even though his hair was tied back, a few pesky strands still managed to escape his leather hair tie, the same hair tie that he used when we were younger. I smirked to myself, remembering how much his hair had annoyed him. However, even though he'd always wanted short hair, he never bothered to cut it, because he knew that I liked his hair long.

Then, it was over and the camera was back on Lady Gaga.

Lifting the spoon of cornflakes to my mouth, I swallowed the cereal as I watched the television screen, tense and ready to find out the winner. I hoped that it was _him,_ of course I did. If anyone deserved the award, he did. I moved closer to the screen as Lady Gaga tore open the envelope. The audience were silent, so silent that the sound of the envelope being ripped open echoed through the large stadium. Pulling out the crisp piece of paper, I cursed inwardly as she waited to read it out, smirking at the name on the card teasingly.

"Oh, for goodness sakes. Would you just tell us—"

However, before I could finish my sentence, the woman's voice buzzed out of my old television set, revealing the winner of the award.

_"The winner of 'The Best New Artist' award is..." _She grinned toothily at the camera, enjoying the last of her screen time. _"Dimitri Belikov!" _

My heart soared for him, Dimitri had actually won and boy, did he deserve it. Jumping out of my seat in excitement, I totally forgot about my bowl of cereal. However, as the milk and cornflakes spilled onto my new carpet, I couldn't bring myself to care. I would worry about that later, because right in that moment, Dimitri was accepting his first award, and there was nothing else that mattered. I was just too proud of him.

The camera followed my old friend as he made his way to the stage, walking with a new air of confidence that hadn't been there before. Dimitri, who was being showered with praise and loving applauds, was not the man I once knew. He was no longer the shy boy, the teenager who was afraid to get up on stage and live out his dream. No, I sighed, he was a confident, wealthy and famous young man. Dimitri didn't depend on me anymore, he could look after himself. There was no need for his old friend from Roshcha.

Accepting his award from Lady Gaga, Dimitri made his way to the podium, rubbing his forehead in discomfort. He chuckled nervously and winced as his laugh echoed around the stadium. Keeping my eyes locked on the screen, I clenched my fists and desperately hoped that he wouldn't get stage fright. I wanted him to look back at his first speech proudly, not with embarrassment.

_"Wow, this is phenomenal." _He breathed, motioning to his trophy for emphasis. _"Thank you, I can't believe you guys actually voted for me."_

I exhaled, thankful that he hadn't fled the stage or worse— thrown up. Tucking my knees up to my chin, I watched the screen, completely enthralled, and started to chew on my sleeves. Realising what I was doing, I thought for a moment before shrugging my shoulders. The t-shirt was ruined anyway.

_"I'd like to thank just a couple of people, if that's alright." _Dimitri said, his voice more confident._ "First of all, I'd like to thank my family. Mama, Babushka, Sonya, Karolina, Viktoria, Paul and, of course, little Zoya too. Without your support, I wouldn't have been able to achieve my dreams. I'd also like to thank my manager, Adrian, you're great at what you do and you've also become such a great friend. Lastly, I'd like to thank one of my closest friends." _

Dimitri took a deep breath and suddenly seemed more uncomfortable than before. Glancing up from the podium, he looked straight into the camera lens, and straight into my soul. My heart, hammering hard in my chest, couldn't take it anymore. I hated the way he made me feel. It had been a whole year, a whole stinking year, since I'd last seen him. You'd think that I would be over him by now, but no. I wasn't. Hanging my head in shame, I laughed at how pathetic I was being. Dimitri was no longer the lost and lonely child that I once knew. He was a big shot, he was _'The Best New Artist', _and he sure as hell didn't think about me anymore.

I gulped and stood up, heading into the kitchen and away from Dimitri. I needed to get over him, and for real this time. Opening up one of my kitchen cupboards, I grabbed an empty bucket and a towel, preparing the things that I'd need to clean up my mess. My eyes were watering, stinging because— because of the spilt milk's stench. I wiped underneath my eyes and turned on my radio, dancing along half-heartedly to some eighties station that would definitely not play _his _music.

Since I had tuned out the rest of Dimitri's speech, I never did find out whom he thanked last.

_"Lastly, I'd like to thank one of my closest friends." _Dimitri took a deep breath and suddenly seemed more uncomfortable than before. _"Actually, she is my best friend. Thank you, Rose. Thank you for helping me conquer my fears, thank you for taking me under your wing, and thank you for believing in me when no-one else did. Even though we're miles apart, I will never forget you, ever. I mean it." _

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**Okay... *Peeks out from behind hand* **_  
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**What did you guys think?  
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	2. Hometown Glory

**Thank you all for your lovely reviews! I'm glad you like my story so far. Here's the next update, I'm sorry it's so late. I hope you all had a great Christmas though. (If you celebrate it.) **

**Enjoy, this is a chapter from Dimitri's point of view!**

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**Chapter Two**

**"Hometown Glory"**

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_**Saturday 1st December 2012  
Aeroplane  
Dimitri Belikov**_

Tasha, as impatient and domineering as ever, reached out with one of her snow-white hands and slammed my blind shut. I huffed in annoyance. That had been the fourth time this flight, and we had only been on the plane for about an hour. The only thing that kept me from starting a fight, and believe me I wanted to, was the fact that we were going to be with my family in a few hours. My family, whom I hadn't seen in three whole years. I grinned. I couldn't wait to see my niece and nephew, Zoya and Paul, in particular. Phone calls and letters were not enough for me, I wanted to see their change in person. Paul had apparently grown a foot and a half since the last time I saw him and Zoya was now a toddler. Excited at the prospect of seeing my family, I wished for the flight to be over, but there were still over five hours left. I grudgingly turned to face my girlfriend, needing to pass the time somehow.

However, when my eyes landed on her tall figure, I couldn't stop my jaw from slacking.

Reclining in her business-class seat luxuriously, I was surprised to see Tasha sporting a silk sleeping mask and sparkly-looking earplugs. She always had been a spoilt woman, but I did wonder where she got the money from this time. I certainly hadn't given it to her; the items seemed ridiculously expensive for what they were.

Tasha pursed her lips as she blindly filed away at her long, perfectly manicured nails. I sighed. It seemed that the only thing missing was a toga-clad Adonis feeding her grapes. She didn't even care that nail files were forbidden on board, I mean, I was pretty sure that they were classed as sharp objects. Shaking my head at her idiocy, I settled back in my chair and entertained myself with thoughts of Tasha being hauled away by muscular security men. However, I soon grew bored.

"Tasha," I began, tapping her shoulder to get her attention. "How did you pay for those things?"

"What do you mean?" Tasha, having removed her sleeping mask and earplugs, blinked innocently. "What things?"

Motioning to her sleeping mask and jewel-encrusted earplugs, I leaned back into my chair and began to mentally prepare myself for her answer. However, remembering my previous experiences, I knew that no amount of mental preparation would help. Whatever came out of Tasha's mouth would be bad regardless. There was almost no point in wishing that she would be different, that she would change. Tasha wasn't, and never would be, like _her._

"You bought them for me, Dimitri." She replied sweetly, tossing her perfectly curled hair over her shoulder. "You told me that I could use your credit card whenever I wanted to, remember?"

"Actually, I can't." I countered, completely incredulous. "I never even said that."

Tasha stared up at the plane's ceiling, her mouth agape as she looked at the smooth white surface. She was stalling, obviously. I could practically hear her mind ticking as she tried to think of an answer. I rolled my eyes. Even though she was taking her time, Tasha's excuse would be outrageously bad. There was no doubt about it. Suddenly, her eyes brightened, glistening like fire as she regarded me with an expression of ferocity.

"You're a famous singer," she reprimanded. "You're supposed to spoil me, Dimitri. Besides, I'm your girlfriend and I should be seen flying in style. You know, in the event that any paparazzi are on board."

Rolling my eyes, I gave up, for I knew it was a battle that I would never win. Tasha was the embodiment of cliché. Everything she did was stereotypical and I couldn't quite remember why I'd decided to let her meet my family. It was horrible of me to even think and I hated that my thoughts were anything but polite towards her. In fact, if _Babushka_ was on the plane and harboured the ability to read minds, I was sure that I would've been on the receiving end of one of her infamous smacks.

I turned back to my window, grinning at the thought of seeing my family for the first time in three years. There was no point in denying it, I couldn't wait to be reunited with them, even my sisters, who all enjoyed ridiculing my every action. I knew that my mother was excited to see me again, I was sure that she would cook up a huge feast to welcome her only son back home. Licking my lips, I started to taste my mother's magical cooking, her black bread, her borscht and her blinis. Suddenly, I got the overwhelming desire to fly the plane myself. The pilots weren't going fast enough and I needed to be back home - back with my family.

Glancing over my shoulder, I wasn't surprised to see that Tasha had returned to her earlier position. I was absolutely bored out of my mind. Searching around for something -anything - to do, I found that more than anything, I wanted to have a peek out of my window. I told myself that it wasn't because of Tasha, it wasn't because I knew that it would annoy her. No, it was because of the sights. The sights would surely be mind-blowing and would keep me entertained for the duration of the flight. Reaching over, I began to slowly slide my blind up, hoping, rather idiotically, that Tasha wouldn't notice. However, her claw-like fingers soon shot out and stopped me in my tracks.

"Dimitri," Tasha growled, peering up at me from underneath her lifted sleeping mask. "I thought I made it clear, the blind stays down, got it?"

"I want it up. There's nothing else to look at here." I reasoned, gritting my teeth together painfully. "I'm bored and I think the view is magnificent, how can you not?"

Tasha clicked her tongue irritatingly.

"Yes, well I can see the sunlight through my mask." She whined and I was sure that, had she not been sitting down, she would've stomped her foot. "I want to sleep, Dimitri. I've got to look my best when I meet your family."

Shaking my head in exasperation, I slammed my blind down and stared, cross-armed, at the chair in front of me. It was going to be a long, long five hours.

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_**Saturday 1st December 2012  
**__**Roshcha, Russia**_  
_**Dimitri Belikov**_

The double doors swept open, causing icy air to rush into the airport's empty lobby. Tasha, not used to the freezing-cold climate that I'd grown up with, grit her teeth and whimpered. It wasn't actually _that_ cold, but we sure were a long way from the ever-sunny Los Angeles. If she wasn't so annoying, I would have felt sorry for her. I mean, it had to be hard for my girlfriend, being away from her home town and all. However, I just couldn't muster up the strength to care, not when she was being so stuck-up.

I rolled my eyes, but still I couldn't contain the smirk that spread across my face as I wheeled both of our bags out of Roshcha's airport. Even Tasha's incessant whining couldn't put a damper on my mood; I was just too ecstatic.

"Where's our chauffeur, Dimitri?" She asked, her voice high pitched and squeaky. "All I can see is an old pick-up truck."

That got my attention.

Stopping in my tracks, my eyes searched the parking lot desperately, looking for said truck. It had to be my family, it had to be. And – I let out an excited gasp – there it was, the truck from my childhood. Beat up and a sun-bleached blue, it stood at the edge of the car park, standing out completely from all of the expensive vehicles. However, it wasn't the car that excited me the most. No, it was the figure leaning against its hood that nearly made me - a grown man - jump up and down with joy.

_Sonya Belikova,_ otherwise known as my sister.

Leaving both my girlfriend and luggage behind, I sprinted over to my sister and instantly enveloped her in a hug, making her drop the 'welcome home' sign that she'd been holding. It seemed like it had been forever since I'd last genuinely smiled, not one of those fake plastic ones that I always put on for the cameras, but a real, huge and toothy grin. It felt good, great even.

I pulled my sister closer, wrapping her up in a bear hug that - my eyes snapped open. Stepping out of our embrace, I peered down at my older, but shorter, sister.

"Sonya! When exactly were you planning on telling me?" I questioned, pointing to her huge and protruding stomach.

"Tell you what?" She blinked innocently, a far-too-smug smile marring her round, pretty features. "I don't know what you mean."

"You're pregnant!"

Judging from her size, she had to be at least thirty weeks gone, maybe even thirty-two. I couldn't believe that she had kept me in the dark for that amount of time. Placing my hands on her round stomach, I stared at my sister, my brown eyes asking, demanding, for an explanation.

"Listen," she sighed, seemingly remorseful. "I wanted to tell you, believe me I did, but I didn't want to bother you either.

I shook my head, both incredulous and also slightly mad. That was a terrible excuse, an excuse so bad that I wanted to dispute it right there and then. However, even though I knew she was hiding something from me, I decided that it wasn't a good time to argue. For one, we were standing in a freezing-cold parking lot. Secondly, Tasha, who had been tapping her foot and shooting us dirty looks the entire time, was standing right behind me, patiently - for her at least - waiting to meet my family.

Walking over to our abandoned suitcases, I motioned for Tasha to follow me and headed over to the truck. Sonya and I would have a conversation later at home, most preferably in private. However, I had a sneaking suspicion that my whole family were involved with Sonya's secrecy. I didn't understand, that was for sure. Why would they keep something so important and exciting from me? She hadn't murdered anybody - sure she was still a little young, but she was making me an uncle again. I couldn't have been happier.

Shaking my head, I turned and stared out of the truck's window, there really was no point in trying to decipher it. Instead, I opted to watch the familiar landmarks and trees pass by, blurring into one as Sonya increased the truck's speed. I sighed. Roshcha, though it was a small place, truly was beautiful.

For the entire ride home, nobody uttered a single word. Sonya seemed too nervous, Tasha was preoccupied with her nail-file, and my mind was reeling, spinning so fast that I couldn't even think of a topic of conversation.

Needless to say, my day was filled with two long and mind-numbingly boring journeys. It was very typical of Roshcha, a tiny village in Russia that housed around six thousand people. I smirked and rested my cheek against the window, thinking about the simple and quiet days that were to come. It was so _great_ to be home.

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**So, I hope you enjoyed that. It wasn't exciting, I know, and it wasn't my best writing either, but it nicely starts the story I guess. Review guys, you know you want to! :)**

**Also, since it's Christmas break, the next update should be within the week! *cough* Hopefully. :D **


	3. To Build a Home

**Hi fellow Vampire Academy lovers! Thanks so much for all of the reviews, they were awesome sauce! Like, seriously. I got like... what, seventeen reviews for chapter two? Pssht, you guys!  
**

**Just so you know, all of the chapters are named after songs, because they are the songs of the moment.  
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**I'll post some replies to your reviews at the end of the chapter. I hope you enjoy this one guys, I've tried to make it flow more. It was supposed to be longer... but, I figured I'd finish it and post it, because I have two exams coming up and I don't want to leave you guys chapter-less.  
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**Chapter Three**

**"To Build a Home"**

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**_Saturday 1st December 2012  
Roshcha, Russia  
Dimitri Belikov_**

"Thanks for the ride, Sonya, was it?" Tasha asked, patting her pockets frantically as she searched for something. Admittedly, I was perplexed. I had been with Tasha for a good year, but she'd never acted _this _crazy before. However, I soon understood when she leaned over the seat and dangled a crisp dollar bill in front of my sister's nose. "Here's a tip, but between you and me, you should really buy a new car."

My jaw dropped.

Sonya, seething and red-faced with fury, span around in her seat and mercilessly grabbed onto Tasha's wrist. I groaned and rested my forehead on the dashboard in front of me, completely embarrassed. Times like these made me wish that I'd never taught my sisters self-defence, especially when they turned said fighting skills on me. Of course, I didn't mean that. I was a particularly protective brother, meaning that I simply _had _to teach my family how to care for themselves before I left. Judging by the hold that Sonya had on my girlfriend, it seemed like I'd done a good job too.

Taking hold of my sister's forearm, I pulled her off Tasha and stared at them both incredulously. Frankly, they were both acting as bad as each other, but I couldn't just sit back and watch them tear each other's throats out. It seemed silly to think that things could escalate that quickly, but since I knew both of the women in the truck, there was no doubt in my mind that it would turn nasty, and quickly too.

"Okay," I sighed, glaring first at my sister and then at my girlfriend. "Tasha, what the hell?"

"What the hell?" She repeated, completely dumbfounded. "Why the hell are you defending our chauffeur?"

Sharing a look of shock with Sonya, I quickly burst out into hysterical laughter. Tasha thought that my sister was our chauffeur, I mean, I hadn't officially acquainted them both or anything, but that was utterly unobservant. Rose Hathaway, an old friend of mine, instantly knew that Sonya, Karolina and Viktoria were my sisters, and she was _seven_ at the time. I shook my head and settled back into my seat, choosing to enjoy the show while it lasted. Sometimes, I chuckled, I was such an ass.

"Actually, Tasha, I'm Dimitri's sister." Sonya said, forcing a fake smile on her features. Turning to face me, she quickly assessed my smug expression and handed me the car keys. "I'm going inside, I'll let you two ready yourselves. You know what Mama gets like, oh, and Viktoria's grown up to be just the same."

I nodded in agreement, but couldn't be more ready. In fact, I would have hopped straight out of the truck if not for Tasha. I knew she had to be nervous, frightened even - she was just about to walk into a house full of six Belikova women after all, oh, and Paul. However, when I came face-to-face with my girlfriend, I didn't see the anxious expression that I'd expected. Instead, I saw the expression of an excited and cheerful woman.

Strangely, that warmed me. I didn't love Tasha, in fact, she irritated me more than anything. However, she wasn't always such a princess. There were brief intervals, and I mean _brief,_ where she actually acted like a human, which made it hard to hate her. Sighing, I opened the truck door and kicked it shut behind me, ready more than ever to see my family. It had been a long four years, that was for sure.

Suddenly, I felt ill. What if they were disappointed? I had been featured in a lot of magazine articles recently, and most of them weren't complimentary. Spreading around stories about my womanising ways, the tabloids always painted me out to be someone that I wasn't. They were one of the reasons why I decided to take a break. I sighed. I just had to hope that my family didn't read them, or that they just didn't care. Trying to push the thoughts to the back of my mind, I opened Tasha's door for her and helped her to jump down. Being ever the gentleman, I continued to wheel both of our suitcases up to the front door, just as my mother had raised me.

I stared fondly up at the building before me. My family home was crooked and quaint - not nearly big enough to house my large family of seven - but it was still home, it was where I grew up. Admittedly, the building was starting to look rather old, the ancient decking creaked whenever you stepped on it and the off-white paint-job was beginning to chip too. I had offered to buy them a new house - a larger and more extravagant place for them to live. However, they were adamant. They didn't want to move.

There were too many memories.

After knocking on the wooden front door, I grudgingly took Tasha's hand in mine and prepared myself for the impending reunion. I grinned. My family were overwhelming sometimes, but they were also very lovely. I knew what was coming, and I knew that there was going to be at least an hour of hugging and pleasantries alone. I scoffed. That was the best-case scenario. However, before I could dwell on it any further, the door swung open and I was encompassed in a pair of tiny arms.

Viktoria.

Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, I pulled her closer towards me, stiffening as I noticed how much she'd grown. Sure, she was still small, but she definitely wasn't the chubby-cheeked twelve year old I'd left behind four years ago. Time certainly did fly and, boy, did it startle me. It frightened me to even think about how much I'd missed. She'd probably already had her first boyfriend, whom I wasn't there to threaten, and she most-likely didn't need help with her homework any more. I sighed, but then shrugged it off. I couldn't take back the decision I made four years ago, though I did regret it a lot of the time.

"Wow," I breathed, pulling back to get a better look at her. "You're what, sixteen now?"

Viktoria smiled, a smile that was not unlike my own. I couldn't believe how much she looked like me too. I mean, we all had the same eyes, round and a nice chocolate brown colour, but Viktoria was literally the spitting image of me - a more feminine version though, of course. Her brown hair, which had recently been streaked with blonde, fell down her back and nearly reached her waist. I smiled. She had even lost the cute baby weight, which I used to love teasing her about when we were children.

"Yes, that's what... four presents you have to catch up on?" She joked, playfully tapping her chin in thought. Suddenly, her eyes brightened and she jabbed a finger at my chest. "I'll be needing them by the end of the week. You're a big-shot now, you have no excuse, big brother."

"Sure thing," I humoured her, taking her shoulders and guiding her into the house. "You're still as cheeky as ever, _little sister_, maturity certainly hasn't changed that about you."

Rolling her eyes, Viktoria pulled away from my grasp and hurried into the living room. She certainly was a little ball of energy, that was for sure. I watched her, enraptured as she waved her arms about, jabbering excitedly to my mother from where she sat on the arm of the chair. Leaning against the door frame, I grinned as both of their heads turned my way simultaneously. Sonya was right. They were definitely alike, both in their manner and appearance.

However, I was pulled away from that thought by a familiar voice calling my name.

I whirled around, instantly coming face to face with Karolina, my older sister. Feeling the grin creep up my face, I quickly wound my arms around her shoulders and pulled her towards me, glad to see her for the first time in years. Seeing as I was quite a family-orientated person, there was nothing that meant more to me than Yeva, Mama, my sisters and their children. Nothing. I grinned cheekily into her hair, however, catching sight of Tasha popping her head around the door, I decided to quickly pull away.

It was time for introductions.

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**Eh, that wasn't really interesting, but guess what! The next chapter will - hopefully - contain the moment you've been waiting for. I'm going to start writing it straight away, because I'm so excited for it. ^_^  
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**HersheyRoza: T****hanks so much for your review! In answer to your question, I chose to make them live in Roshcha because I wanted them to live in a really traditional-looking village. I Googled _(ashamed)_ small towns in Russia and then Roshcha came up. I guess I just liked the look of it. Other than that, I have no idea. ^_^**

******Mrs. Belikova: Ha, she definitely does need attitude to kick Tasha's bum! Don't worry about that though, Rose will certainly have attitude. I don't want her to be poor and pathetic either. Ugh, I hate poor and pathetic. Thanks for the review!  
**


	4. The Scientist

**Hi guys! Thank you all for your reviews. Again, I'm astonished. I got twenty-two reviews for that last chapter. TWENTY-TWO! It was such a bad chapter too. Anyway, sorry for the wait. I had a lot of exams this week.**

**Um, because it was getting so long, I had to cut the chapter up into parts. However, no fear! These parts will be posted next chapter! I hope you enjoy this. (It's actually quite long!)  
**

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**Chapter Four**

**"The Scientist"**

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_**Saturday 1st December 2012  
Roshcha, Russia  
Dimitri Belikov**_

"Mama, this is Tasha, my girlfriend." I announced, placing my hand on Tasha's shoulders to guide her forward. "I met her a year ago in Los Angeles."

Scanning my family's reactions, I wasn't surprised to see Mama with an openly happy smile on her face. I mean, that was just how she acted towards everybody, even my father, whom I had to stand up to and kick out myself. However, I was shocked to behold a scowl marring Yeva's usually friendly features. My grandmother had a somewhat _sixth sense; s_he could apparently get a _'feel'_ for things that were going to happen in the future and, judging by her furrowed brow and sour expression, Yeva wasn't _'feeling' _good vibes coming from us.

However, my grandmother's scowl paled in comparison to Viktoria's thunderous demeanour.

Her lips, which were already pursed, tightened further as she studied the woman in front of her. Viktoria's pupils began to dilate with rage, but I didn't notice until she flicked her gaze up to meet mine. It was an expression of pure hatred. I blanched. Having no idea whom her anger was aimed at, I stepped forwards and placed a reassuring hand on her forearm, only to have it immediately shrugged off.

Karolina and Sonya, who had also noticed our youngest sister's cold manner, suddenly stood up and walked into the adjoining kitchen, dragging Viktoria along with them. Glancing at Tasha, I offered her a sheepish smile before following them out. My family certainly had changed during my time away. It seemed that my only sane sister left was Karolina, I had no idea what had happened to the other two. One was being secretive, the other was being as impulsive as—

The doorbell rang, interrupting my trail of thought. I turned around, ready to go and open the door. However, before I even took a step, I heard the familiar sound of my mother's heels clicking against the floorboards. She was taking care of it. So instead, I turned around to face Viktoria, a confused and slightly angry expression on my face.

"What was _that, _Vika?" I asked in a hushed tone, not wanting Tasha to overhear.

However, instead of answering me, my sister peered over my shoulder and smiled at something behind my back. I scoffed. She was trying to distract me, to make me focus on something other than her, but I wasn't going to let that happen. Shoving my hands in my duster's pockets, I completely ignored the sound of my mother inviting somebody inside. I shut my eyes and fervently hoped that Mama hadn't planned a welcome-home party, or something equally as frivolous.

"Viktoria," I repeated, acting more like her father than her sibling.

"Fine," she seethed, angrier than I had ever seen her. Then again, I suppose she was a teenager now. "When I heard you were coming to Roshcha, I thought you were coming alone - that you'd have enough time for _me. _Instead, you brought your latest girlfriend along. You'll be too busy with her, showing her the sights and going on dates, to even spend time with us."

I nearly laughed. The idea was ridiculous, but I could understand why she felt angry. She didn't know my feelings about Tasha - that I only stayed with her because it was what Adrian, my manager, wanted. For some unbeknownst reason, Tasha was adored by the public because of her modelling career, and so I couldn't break up with her. The media were hellish, and they would completely ruin my career and reputation by printing biased stories in the tabloids. However, what Adrian didn't know was that the longer I stayed in the singing industry, the less I cared and the more I wanted to quit. I sighed. It was something that I couldn't explain with Tasha in the next room, so I made a mental reminder to tell my sister about it later in private. It would be nice to finally confide in someone.

"I don't like her anyway," Viktoria sniffed, hopping up on a nearby barstool. "I've seen her on television, both with you and on her own. She seems pretty high maintenance to me."

I was about to reply, when I heard a quiet hiss coming from just outside. _Oh dear. _Shooting a nervous glance at Viktoria, I edged over to the door and threw it open, only to find Tasha standing in the doorway, red-faced and furious. Her expression appeared almost murderous as she glared coldly at my little sister. Having heard the entirety of our conversation, she seemed more than ready to pounce.

Being ever the protective older brother, I was quick to step in front of Tasha, effectively blocking her line of sight. Sonya and Karolina, also noticing my girlfriend's enraged expression, crossed their arms and flanked Viktoria, forming an almost defensive barrier around her. It was quite sweet, the way we were all being protective of one another, even though it was more than unnecessary. It wasn't like Tasha was going to suddenly jump up and attack the whole of my family. Shaking my head, I turned to my girlfriend, ready to calmly diffuse the situation. In all honesty, I did wonder why my mother hadn't stopped Tasha from eavesdropping in the first place. I was going to call her over to explain, but then something happened.

I saw _her._

* * *

**_Monday 18th November 1996_****  
****_Roshcha, Russia_****  
****_Dimitri Belikov_****  
****_Five_**

_Mama, bending down to lovingly kiss my forehead, slipped the small rucksack off my shoulders and pushed me in the general direction of the other children. Frightened and also slightly overwhelmed, I stumbled into the middle of the playroom, surrounded by overly excited and active toddlers. It was mayhem. Everywhere I looked, children were running about, clutching their plastic toys as though their lives depended on it. I was at a loss; I had no idea what to do or where to go next. There were just too many options. Trucks. Duplo. Sand pits. It was all very bewildering, especially because it was my first day of Kindergarten._

_Spotting a bright yellow monster truck, I quickly moved into action. Yellow was my favourite colour; it was bright and cheerful, and it always reminded me of the brief intervals when my parents weren't fighting. Toddling over to the plastic vehicle, I opened and closed my fists eagerly as I got closer to my target. However, at the very last moment, a young boy snatched up the truck with his grubby little hands. I huffed in annoyance. The boy had a brown, curly mop of hair and distinct freckles that I could've easily joined up like a dot-to-dot puzzle. He was short, and so, as I looked him up and down, I was sure that I could take him. He had taken my truck and, frankly, I had clearly claimed it as my own._

_It was final; I was going to propose a duel, a fight to the death. The last truck standing would win._

_"That was my truck, mister." I reasoned, hoping that I sounded somewhat threatening. In all honesty, I was just going off what I'd seen in the soap operas that my mother and sisters always watched. Of course, I wasn't supposed to see them, but that had never stopped me. Instead, I sat on the stairs every night and peeked through the rectangular spaces in the banister. "I was playing with it first. If you don't give it back, I'll... I'll..."_

_His tiny, freckle-speckled nose wrinkled up in disgust. "No," he argued. "I'm not giving it you back, because it was never yours. I got to it first, you'll just h-have to play with something else."_

_Outraged and envious, I pivoted on my heels and tried to find something else to play with. However, there was nothing else in sight. Sighing dejectedly, I began readying myself to play tea party with all the icky girls, when suddenly I heard a thud. Whirling around, I was shocked to see the selfish boy at my feet, his nose pressed into the blue, prickly carpet. I didn't know what had happened, but it had to have hurt. A small distance away, the yellow truck, which I pined so much for, was lying on its side, the wheels turning on their own accord. For a second, I was frightened. I hoped that I wouldn't be met with the same fate._

_Then, I saw her._

_Standing before me was a young, pretty girl. Sporting two, sloppy braids and a pair of rumpled dungarees, she seemed innocent enough. However, judging by her bedraggled appearance, it looked as though she had been in some sort of fight; she certainly came across as scrappy, which meant that she was the type of girl my mother had warned me so profusely about. I flinched. Although she had the appearance of an angel, she was obviously some kind of demon. I mean, she had completely taken out the mop-haired boy, who was still rolling around on the floor in pain._

_Seemingly pleased with herself, the young girl stared down at the truck-thief with a spade poised above her head like an axe. Clearly, she knew what she was doing with the object, which was still caked with wet sand granules. I blanched. The spade was a shiny yellow - my favourite colour - but more importantly, it was obviously her weapon of choice. Lifting her head up to meet my gaze, the girl puffed out her chubby-cheeks proudly. Yes, she was definitely pleased with herself._

_Raising my left eyebrow at her, I tried to fight the intense urge to flee._

_"Hello," she greeted enthusiastically, dropping the spade on the floor. Finally. "My name's Rosemarie Hathaway, but if you dare call me that, you'll end up like poor Ralf here." The girl pointed to the writhing boy on the carpet. "You should call me Rose."_

_Offering me a hand to shake, Rose casually stepped over Ralf's body and stood next to me. I didn't dare to refuse her gesture, so I took her hand in mine and gave it a hearty shake. However, I then noticed her height. She was definitely the shortest girl that I'd ever seen, but she was also the fiercest. "Dimitri," I introduced myself. "Dimitri Belikov."_

_Suddenly, her eyes sparkled even more, which I'd initially thought to be impossible. Leaping over Ralf, Rose accidentally kicked him over in the process, ruining all the progress that he'd made in getting up. I couldn't help but chuckle; it served him right for stealing my truck. Everybody knew that I had called dibs on it. It was totally against the—_

_Beaming up at me, Rose held the yellow truck out in her elevated hands. In all honesty, I hadn't even realised that she'd returned to my side until she was literally holding the toy underneath my nose. I had been too preoccupied with my angry thoughts about Ralf. I sighed. It was hard being five years old. Shaking the thoughts away, I took the truck from her hands and grinned at her. She wasn't a demon; she was my friend._

_"Thank you, Roza." I said sincerely._

_Rose nodded dismissively and turned around. However, before I could leave to play with my truck, she suddenly whirled around and grabbed my arm. "What's a Roza?" She asked, both intrigued and befuddled._

_"It's your new nickname," I grinned, charmed by her obliviousness. Spotting another truck, I jabbed my finger towards it and, again, raised my eyebrow. I watched in amusement as her eyes narrowed with jealousy. "Would you like to play monster trucks with me?"_

_"Are you asking me on a date, comrade?"_

_I rifled through my brain, trying to find a definition for the word 'date', but came up empty. Staring at her in confusion, I was too embarrassed to admit that I didn't understand, and so I simply agreed. Rose smiled and skipped on ahead of me, picking up the spare truck as she went. Heading over to a spare piece of carpet, she sat down and built a ring made up of stolen duplo blocks. She was such a rebel. Sitting down next to her, I crossed my legs and placed my truck in the middle of the circle, ready to start the game._

_Then, I suddenly remembered what she had called me._

_"Why did you call me comrade?" I inquired, rolling my truck towards hers on the carpet._

_She grinned up at me cutely and, seeing that I was distracted, took the opportunity to crash violently into my car. My mouth slackened. She was good at this game. "It's your new nickname," she replied nonchalantly, returning the trucks to their starting points. "It means that you're my new best friend."_

_I nodded. It made sense that we both had nicknames for each other, we were best friends now. Although, I still didn't understand why she'd chosen 'comrade' in particular. On the outside, I was as cool as the fresh morning snow about her statement. However, internally, I was glowing. I had a friend, a best friend even. It was strange to think, seeing as it was my first day and everything. However, I knew that we would continue to be great friends, despite my mother's warnings about girls like her. Rose was just my kind of person. She didn't behave like a girl, her favourite colour was yellow, and she was as strong as I was - maybe even more so._

_Turning to face my new companion, I found myself mesmerised by her beauty. Roza was pretty, not as pretty as Mama mind, but nobody was prettier than my mother. Fly away wisps of hair framed her face as she continually rammed her truck into mine._

_"Hey, Roza, what's a date?" I questioned suddenly. Seeing as we were friends, I figured I didn't need to be embarrassed about anything. I could simply ask her, and there would be no judgement._

_"I don't know," she admitted, hanging her head in thought. "I think it's a type of ice-cream."_

* * *

_**Saturday 1st December 2012  
Roshcha, Russia  
Dimitri Belikov**_

_Roza._

I couldn't believe that she was here, literally standing in the middle of my living room with Paul, my nephew, desperately clinging onto her leg. Noticing my awed expression, Tasha hastily turned around and glared daggers at my former best friend's back. Obviously, judging by her narrowed eyes and pursed lips, she saw her as a threat romantically. I rolled my eyes. It wasn't like Rose would actually _want _to talk to me. However, Tasha didn't know that.

Before I could stop her, she began to stalk towards Rose, practically glowing green with envy. I nearly tried to follow her, but Rose didn't seem to know of my presence yet, and I wasn't quite ready to face her. Seeing as Tasha had begun to stomp her feet, I was fearful of what was going to happen. However, when she finally tapped Rose on the shoulder, gone was the thunderous expression and instead, in its place was a look of complete and utter friendliness. Though, I knew it was false.

"Hi," she greeted in a loud, enthusiastic voice. "I'm Tasha Ozera, I'm sure you've heard of me. I'm a model."

Tasha flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and held out a hand to shake. I almost laughed, but I didn't want to blow my cover. Though, that was pretty pointless now. Why would Tasha be in my family's home if I wasn't around? Rose, coming to the same realisation, quickly whirled around as though she somehow _knew_ that I was right behind her.

I watched, amused, as her brown, doe-like eyes widened and scanned me from head-to-toe. It seemed as though she couldn't believe I was actually in front of her. She looked happy almost, excited, which was completely the opposite of what I had expected. Taking a small step in my direction, her grin suddenly morphed into a scowl as she was stopped by my girlfriend's claw-like hand. Tasha was persistent, I had to give her that.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Rose sincerely apologised, not realising that Tasha was being as fake as her false nails. "I'm Rose, it's lovely to finally meet you. If you'll just excuse me for a moment."

Just like that, Rose had easily brushed her off - politely, of course - but still, she had clearly dismissed her. Tasha's jaw dropped as Rose continued towards me, her eyes bright and shining. This was it, the reunion that I had dreamed about. I couldn't believe it was actually happening, that she'd actually forgiven me. It seemed too good to be true. Rose grinned and reached out as though she was about to embrace me.

Then, I was on the receiving end of one of her infamous slaps.

* * *

**Yes, so the next chapter will be all flashbacks I think. So make sure you pay attention to the dates that appear. The chapter should be up soon, probably sometime this weekend. I'm sorry that I had to cut it in half, but it was nearing like 8,000 words so... To me, that is just too much for one chapter.  
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**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Oh, and be sure to tell me if you found this confusing. (You will find out why Rose is so mad in the next chapter, I promise!)  
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	5. At The Beginning

**Thank you guys for your awesome-sauce reviews. I'm glad that nobody got confused. Just like I promised, here is the next chapter. It's just the rest of the flashbacks. The next chapter will be in RPOV where chapter four left off. Also, sorry if there are some mistakes. I kind of rush edited it so that it was out sooner. (Also, it's REALLY LONG.)  
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* * *

**Chapter Five**

**"At The Beginning"**

* * *

**_Thursday 28th November 2000_****  
****_Roshcha, Russia_****  
****_Dimitri Belikov_****  
****_Nine_**

"Hey," Rose yelled, sprinting to catch up with me. "Comrade, wait up!"

Huffing in annoyance, I slowed down for my best friend, mentally reminding myself to teach her how to run. She was just _so _slow; she was almost like a tortoise. Panting and wheezing, Rose finally managed to reach me. However, she still had to put her head in between her knees to aid her breathing. I patted her back comfortingly, but then left to sit down against our school's brick wall. It was recess, but I didn't feel like doing much. I'd just had a pretty intense maths class, so I was just too exhausted.

Rose, also happy to just sit down, joined me on the ground and began to pluck away at some nearby weeds.

"If I had superhero powers," she began randomly, "I'd want the ability to turn objects into doughnuts by touching them. It would be so awesome. I would never be hungry ever again."

"Of course," I laughed, amused by her love for food. "Only you would want a superpower like that. Everybody else would instantly go for flying powers, or laser-beams for eyes. Not you, though. You're just satisfied with getting your daily dosage of doughnuts."

Roza scoffed. Holding up the weed she had just plucked from the ground, she jabbed the stem at me and rolled her eyes when I flinched. I would have usually been embarrassed about shying away from a flower. However, Rose was lethal with literally anything — even a harmless piece of greenery. She could have quite easily given me a paper-cut, and though they weren't _that _painful, they certainly did sting. Shaking off that thought, I began humming to myself quietly, finding that for once in my life, I felt peaceful. I didn't feel hyperactive like I usually did. Instead, I wanted to just sit back with my best friend, talking calmly about things that were, admittedly, ridiculous.

"If I had superhero powers," I paused, pursing my lips in thought. "I would want an awesome singing voice. I mean, you know how much I love music. I want to _make_ it."

Rose nodded her head in agreement, as though it completely made sense. Twirling a dandelion between her fingers, she threw it to the ground and stood up, stretching her hand out to me as an offering. Perplexed, I raised one of my eyebrows, but took her hand regardless. Did this mean that we were going to do something? Using her hand to pull myself up, I instantly came face-to-face with my best friend, whose doe-like eyes were glittering in the barely-there sunlight. I sighed and brushed off my legs, readying myself to hear what she had in mind.

"You already have an awesome voice, comrade." Rose assured me, her own voice like honey. "However, I can't make doughnuts. So come on, let's go and get some with chocolate sprinkles."

* * *

_**Friday 3rd July 2009  
Roshcha, Russia  
Dimitri Belikov  
Seventeen **_

I was half-way to my school's prom when my cell phone started to ring. Seeing as I was driving, I chose to ignore the caller and just press on with my journey instead. I mean, I desperately needed to get to prom, seeing as I was already extremely late. My friends, Ivan and Eddie, were waiting for me there. Instead of putting ourselves through the excruciating process of picking a prom date, we'd chosen to go prom solo. That way, when the time came, we'd easily be able to sneak out of the crepe-paper-filled gymnasium and into the after party. It was genius.

I smiled. However, the sound of my shrill ringtone quickly made it fall from my face. Resting in the passenger's seat, my cell beeped, buzzed and flashed, annoying me to the point of no return. Somehow, I knew that it was Rose calling me. However, I made no move to pick up the phone; I didn't want to hear her crooning about the love she felt for her boyfriend. I didn't need to hear it, nor did I want to.

However, when my phone didn't stop ringing, I gave up. Sighing in defeat, I pulled over to the side of the road and grabbed the aggravating object. I guess I'd have to face her sooner or later. Bringing the screen up to my eye-level, I scowled. It wasn't Rose, it was Janine - Janine Hathaway. What did she want? Rose was supposed to be at the prom right now, with her hot boyfriend, the famous Jesse Zeklos.

"Hello?" I began uncertainly, supposing that Janine had just called the wrong number. "Janine, what's the matter?"

"I can't get through to her, Dimitri." Janine was speaking so quickly, she sounded frantic. However, it wasn't just that. She seemed pained too. "I know you're going to the prom, and I wouldn't have called you if it wasn't vital, but— Dimitri, I've never seen her like this before."

Turning the key in the ignition, I put my cell on speaker phone and began to drive towards the Hathaway household.

"Slow down, Miss Hathaway." I tried to soothe her, however, I wasn't the calmest of people either. "Can you tell me, from the beginning, what happened?"

"It's silly really, but she looks so upset." I heard Janine take a shaky breath before she began properly. "Obviously, you know about how Jesse was taking Rose to senior prom, because she hasn't shut up about it for the past couple of weeks." Hearing his name, my hands tightened on the steering wheel. I hated that ass; he was planning something for sure. "However, he didn't show up tonight. Of course, I wondered why, because he has been a permanent fixture in my living room since they started dating. Anyway, I went upstairs to ask Rose where he was, but she was all hunched over and miserable. She told me that he went to prom with somebody else - Camille or something - that they'd planned it the whole time."

Rage ignited every cell in my body, suddenly there was nothing I wanted more than to punch Zeklos in the face. However, I had to get to Rose first. She was my main priority. Sure, I had warned her about Jesse a countless amount of times, and she'd never listened, but she really _liked_ him. And I mean, the heartbeat-increasing, world-spinning, kind of _like._ I couldn't blame her for not listening to me, if somebody told me that she was anything less than perfect, I wouldn't give them the time of day.

"I'm on my way," I assured her, already turning onto the street. "Oh, and don't worry, Janine. Zeklos will pay for this."

Opening my car door, I got out of the bright yellow vehicle and kicked it shut behind me. I was furious, murderous even. Roza was my person; she was my other half, and Jesse Zeklos had ruined her. Storming up the familiar driveway, I didn't even bother to knock since Janine already knew that I was coming. Instead, I simply entered the house and sprinted up the staircase, barely shouting a "Hello again, Miss Hathaway," over my shoulder.

Trooping on, I walked across the landing to the farthest door away, the door with the decorative beware signs and stickers tacked onto its body. I sucked in a breath of air and rested my head against the wooden door, readying myself for what I was about to see. I knew that it wouldn't be too bad, because Rose was a strong woman, but I still hated to see her even in the slightest bit upset. Turning the knob, I slowly opened the door and shuffled inside, closing it quietly behind me. Glancing around the room, I wasn't surprised to see her hunched up on her bed, make-up still intact and hair completely unruffled. Internally, I smiled with pride. Roza wasn't going to let some boy like Jesse Zeklos make her cry.

Heading over to her bed, neither of us made any move to talk as I climbed up and sat next to her, my long legs hanging over the edge of the mattress. I huffed and looped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to my body. Even though she didn't show it on the outside, I knew she needed my support as she was being deadly silent, which was really unusual for her. Normally, it was impossible to shut her up. However, her silence fortunately didn't last too long. Once I began humming and stroking the wisps of hair away from her face, Rose started to talk.

"It was all some kind of trick." She said, keeping her sentences short and to the point. "He was with Camille the whole time. I think somebody dared him to do it. Date me. Ask me to prom. It was all fake. He was supposed to be my boyfriend." She paused and took a deep breath, readying both herself and me for her next confession. "He was my first." Rose uttered.

I gasped.

"You didn't?" I asked, my voice pleading. If Jesse had used her like that, dated Camille whilst he was intimate with Rose, I would have no control over—

"I did," she replied, interrupting my trail of thought. However, when I looked down at her, I didn't see the misty, tear-filled eyes that I'd expected. No, instead I saw black, fully-dilated pupils, which were filled with the utmost rage. "I really liked him, comrade. He was so nice to me, and — god — I'm such an idiot."

Burying her head deep into my chest, Rose, redder than the flower after which she had been named, tried to hide the furious blush that was spreading across her cheeks. However, it obviously didn't escape my notice. Even though inside I was filled with an irrefutable rage, I gently pulled up Rose's chin and tried to give her a somewhat calming look.

"Hey," I mumbled, talking in hushed and soothing tones. "You don't need to be embarrassed about it, Roza. You made a mistake, and yes, it was a bad one, but everybody makes them. Trust me, I've made my fair share of mistakes too."_ — Such as,_ I thought,_ letting Jesse Zeklos get anywhere near you_ — "I don't respect you any less because of the decisions you've made, so you don't have to hide in my chest."

She chuckled, seeming happier than before. However, there was still an underlying anger, which frightened me to no end. I wasn't frightened for Rose, quite the contrary, I was frightened for Jesse. Roza could do so much more damage than me. Holding her closer to my chest, I rested my cheek on the top of her head, waiting for her to calm down and start the next conversation. It was strange to think about how ecstatic she was when she called me a mere three hours ago, singing down the phone as she played about with her hair and applied her make-up. I sighed. Her mood had completely deteriorated since then; she was now drowning in the deep dark abyss that was otherwise known as anger. I couldn't fault her though, I wanted to punch Zeklos more than she did, and it wasn't even me who was cheated on.

Swallowing down my fury, I gave Roza's shoulder a friendly squeeze before getting to my feet. I had an idea, but I wasn't quite sure how she'd take it.

"Just because Jesse's an ass, it doesn't mean that you can't go to our senior prom." I reasoned, holding a hand out to her as an offer. "In fact, if anything, it means that you _should_ go to prom; you need to show them that you don't care."

Rose seemed uncertain as she peered up at me from her seat on the bed. She had obviously been excited about prom prior to the Jesse problem; she'd been talking about it for weeks. Whether that was because of the actual event or the infamous after party, it didn't matter. I wasn't going to let her miss it.

Enticing her by wiggling my fingers, I curled my lips up into a crooked grin, knowing that she wouldn't be able to resist.

"Come on," I urged. "Be the brave, strong and bad-ass Rose Hathaway that I know. Go and show Zeklos and Camille who's boss."

Smirking up at me, Roza grabbed my hand and pulled herself up, properly showing me her outfit for the first time. _Whoa._

* * *

_**Tuesday 18th August 2009  
Montana, The United States  
Dimitri Belikov  
Eighteen**_

Watching the little children run around excitedly, I suddenly wished I was somewhere, _anywhere _other than 'C_amp Crocodile_'. However, because of my good English skills, my mother sent me to Montana every year to be a camp leader and practice my second language. It was torturous. But this year was different. It was more bearable. This year, Roza had come along with me.

"Welcome to '_Camp Crocodile_', Roza." I said, making a sweeping gesture with my hand. "I bet you wish that you never offered to join me this year."

"Nonsense," she replied, grinning like the Cheshire cat. "I love kids and look, there's a talent show on later today."

Roza pointed to a nearby wooden cabin. There, tacked onto one of its walls, a bright red poster announced the upcoming talent show that was open to all members of the camp — even the leaders. I smiled along with Rose. They were definitely shaking things up this year, they had never done a talent show before. Grabbing my hand, Rose dragged me over to the glittery poster and began to read it out loud. Apparently, the deadline wasn't until later today. There were still some spaces available for people to perform too.

"Comrade," Roza gasped excitedly, making me wince as she roughly grabbed onto my shoulder. "You could sign up for this! You could show off your singing talents!"

I shook my head. "I don't know—"

"I mean, you probably won't win, but that's only because adorable children are going to take part." She nodded as she thought it through. "The cutest person always wins and, even though I find you really precious, a kid with pig tails and widest eyes will undoubtedly beat you."

Shrugging her hand off my shoulder, I walked closer towards the poster and narrowed my eyes at the text, searching for some kind of loophole that would get me out of singing. However, I couldn't find anything to form an argument with. There it was in writing. The deadline was in an hour and camp leaders could participate. I sighed. There was no getting out of this one. When Rose got an idea, she would stop at nothing for it to be carried out. It was one of the things that I loved about her, but hated at the same time.

Sensing that I had come to a decision, Rose whooped and pumped her fist in the air enthusiastically. I rolled my eyes. It was easy for her to be excited, she wasn't the one who was about to go up on stage and sing a song with only a few hours of preparation. Yes, I wasn't looking forward to it as much as her. Roza's eyes were bright with emotion as she began to lead the way to the sign up sheet, which was apparently situated in the reception. I grunted; I was so going to regret this later on.

. . . . . .

"Next up, we have one of our very own _Camp Crocodile _leaders, Dimitri Belikov!" The man, who was too joyous for my liking, yelled into his microphone. "Hey! I see you in the back there, put down that tomato. We will not tolerate people throwing fruit and vegetables at the contestants."

Roza, who was standing right next to me, tried to stifle her giggles but failed miserably. The fact that people had stale fruit in the audience only worried me more. I wasn't ready; I had never even performed on stage before, even though it was my dream to eventually do so. Shaking my head, I tried to pull myself together. The people in the audience were all aged from five to ten years old. Sure, there were a few parents in the audience, but it wasn't that frightening. Rose, noticing my fear, shoved me in the direction of the stage.

"Go on," she urged, smiling at me reassuringly. "I'll be right on the front row so you can see me, I promise. Just think of it as a step towards your dream, you need to get over your stage fright at some point."

Taking a deep breath, I thanked her and shakily started to walk onto the stage. Almost instantly, I was blinded by the bright lights and flashing cameras as the audience captured me on film. It was all so distracting, but more to the point I wondered why people were taking photographs of me. I wasn't their child. Gulping, I grew even more disorientated when that irritating man from before started to push a microphone in my face and interrogate me. Inside of my chest, my heart began to pound, so loudly that I was sure the whole audience could hear it. I closed my eyes. There was no way I could do this.

However, just as I was about to run off stage, I saw Rose. Giving me a thumbs up, she settled down in her front-row seat and grinned at me, somehow giving me the strength to go on. It was all of a sudden so simple, I'd just look at her the whole time and everything would be fine.

"I'm going to sing," I said, answering the man's question somewhat confidently. "I enjoy singing."

He nodded and left the stage, allowing me to begin my performance. I knew then, in that moment, that I would be okay with singing on stage. However, what I didn't know was how much the small talent show would change my life.

* * *

_**Sunday 20th September 2009  
Roshcha, Russia  
Dimitri Belikov  
Eighteen**_

Tucking the plane tickets into the inside of my duster's pocket, I stepped outside of the house and wheeled my suitcase along behind me. This was my moment; I had somehow managed to land a record deal, and I couldn't waste such an amazing opportunity. Apparently, one of the children at _Camp Crocodile_'s talent show had a talent-scout as a father. It was fortunate that I actually plucked up the courage to sing, because it meant that my dream was finally achievable.

However, even though it was a once in a life time chance, the closer I got to the taxi, the more uncertain I grew — the more I thought about those I loved. I sighed. It was going to be a lot harder to leave than I thought. I'd been dreaming of this moment since I knew what a career was, but now that it was here, well, I was a little reserved about going.

Overhead, thunder rumbled like Rose's stomach after an hour with no food. However, it wasn't the deafening noise that made me jump. No, it was the figure waiting for me just a little distance away from the taxi.

_Roza._

Hoping that she didn't notice me falter, I carried on towards the taxi with fake confidence, trying not to show her how reluctant I was truly feeling. When Rose finally realised what was happening, there was no doubt in my mind that she would try to use my doubt to her advantage. She didn't know about my record deal yet. Ever since I got that call from Adrian, my new manager, I'd been coldly avoiding Rose. It made me a terrible and horrible person, but I knew that I wouldn't leave if she seemed even in the slightest bit upset. So, I had been selfish, and simply ignored her for the past week.

Shaking my head, I idiotically tried to just _walk _past Rose. However, I was unsurprisingly stopped by one of her small, tanned hands.

"Comrade," she began, her voice soft and concerned. I gulped. "Where have you been for the past week? I've been worried sick."

Then, as if the situation wasn't bad enough, it began to pour with rain — that horrible, noisy rain that instantly pools at your feet and soaks through your clothes. Staring down at the ground, I awkwardly started to shuffle around, fidgeting as I tried to think of something to say. However, I was coming up empty. Rose, unfortunately, wasn't. Spotting the luggage in my hands and the vehicle behind me, her eyes widened in shock before turning almost sorrowful.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" She whispered, glancing at the taxi before returning her gaze to mine. "Were you even going to say goodbye?"

Staring into her saddened eyes, I felt nothing but strong remorse. In truth, I hadn't planned on telling her goodbye. It wasn't because I felt as though she was unimportant, quite the contrary; it was because I didn't want to face her. I was truly a coward. Watching the rain soak her through, I instantly had to fight the urge — the urge to usher her inside and make her a hot chocolate. However, I managed to refrain. I didn't want to miss my flight and, if I had succumbed to her, I certainly would've.

Through the sound of the pounding rain, I heard the taxi driver beep his horn. He was being quite impatient, not to mention rude. Holding my hand up to him, I gave my best friend a calming look before heading over to the taxi. Rose crossed her arms angrily, ignoring the fact that her clothes were now starting to stick to her like a second skin. Opening the vehicle's door, I threw my suitcase into the back and told the driver that I would be only a few more minutes. He nodded, but still scowled grumpily as I kicked the door shut and headed back over to Rose.

"Roza," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in discomfort. It was now or never; it was time to rip off the band-aid. "I'm leaving Russia... I don't know what else to say."

"_You don't know what else to say?_" She repeated, her voice outraged and highly incredulous. "You have been my best friend for thirteen years, and you don't know what _else _to say? I don't know, Dimitri. How about _'goodbye', o_r maybe even '_let's stay in touch_'. I can't believe you."

Rose stepped towards me, her eyes black with the utmost rage, and slapped me hard on my chest. It shouldn't have made me stumble, but due to her strength and me being off-guard, I began to lose my footing.

Then, I made a terrible mistake. Grabbing onto her upper arms, I used her to right myself so that I wouldn't fall over. However, that little bit of contact seemed to spark something inside of her; it made her attack me more. Smacking my torso repeatedly, Rose started to yell so loud that I was sure my whole street could hear her. It was a miracle that they didn't all appear on their porches, watching the spectacle with their wide eyes and gossiping lips. Over and over again, Rose screeched and shouted at me, cursing me with every name under the sun as she repeatedly told me to never touch her again.

Finally, I'd had enough. Taking hold of her wrists, I gently pushed her away from my body, but still maintained my hold. I definitely didn't want _that _to happen again.

"Stop, Roza. I didn't mean to—"

"No," she spat out venomously, pulling her wrists out of my grasp. Her words were like knives stabbing into my chest — they were just so harsh. "No. You don't get to call me that any more. I'm not your _Roza._ I'm not even significant enough, important enough for you to tell me when you're leaving the _freaking_ country. The fact that we've been through so much, that we've known each other for so many years, and you don't even bother to say goodbye? It disgusts me." She shook her head and began to back away. "I don't know why you're leaving Russia, but I don't want to know any more. I don't even _care."_

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to prove her wrong, to tell her what I'd been feeling since the first day of kindergarten. However, I couldn't. Speaking those words, well, it would have been crueller than leaving without saying goodbye. I was going to America; I was leaving the continent. If I informed her of my true feelings, it would be unfair to both of us. We'd be forever wondering what might have happened if I'd confessed years ago, rather than the night of my departure.

Rose wrinkled her nose as she scrutinised my torn expression. Then, coming to the conclusion that I wasn't going to say anything more, she pivoted on her heels and began to walk away, her trainers squelching as she went. Inside of my chest, my heart began to pound furiously. I couldn't leave on such bad terms with her. I had to think of something to say, and quick too. My palms started to sweat as my time ticked away. Every second I wasted, she was closer to the end of the street.

_Oh, what the hell. _

"Roza, I—"

"I don't want to hear it!" She growled, glaring at me over her shoulder. In that moment, my heart seemed to break. Roza and I had argued before, but she had _never_ looked at me with such hate-filled eyes. "Have a nice life, Dimitri."

Instead of running after her like I should have done, I watched, soaked to my skin, as she walked away and out of my life.

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**I deleted half of my chapter! GRRRR. Ehem. I had literally just finished it and was about to press save. Then, I pressed the backspace button and all of the last flashback deleted itself. ***** Rant over. * **

** The moral of the story is, make sure to save your work. Obviously, though it's happened to me many times, I haven't quite learnt my lesson yet.  
**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. I know I made Dimitri out to be (kind of) a jerk in the last flashback, but really he just made a bad decision. Bless him, he's just a confused teenager. Anyway, review if you'd like. All of them make me smile like this - XD  
**


	6. Changes

**Thank you so much guys for your feedback! I will reply to some of your reviews below, so make sure to check that out if you asked a question. Enjoy!  
**

**Earlier today/yesterday I tried to update this story, but the site wasn't working. Sorry!**

**Oh, and by the way, does anybody know if there are any contests in progress? For some reason, I would really love to participate in one. I'm not quite sure why, but you know. I'm just in the mood and stuff.  
**

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**Chapter Six**

**"Changes"**

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**_Tuesday 4th December 2012  
Roshcha, Russia  
Rosemarie Hathaway_**

Sliding my bag's strap further up my arm, I confidently entered the dress shop and smiled when the familiar bell chimed above me. Quite frankly, as I stepped further and further into the building, I felt like I had finally arrived home. There was that familiar smell, I realised — the smell of dust and old fabric — that welcomed me more than the bleach aroma of my own apartment. Sure, it wasn't the pleasantest of smells. However, it was much more homely than my one-bedroomed, sterile flat.

Glancing up at the clock above one of the dress rails, I saw that it was approximately nine thirty in the morning. Perfect. I was just in time for my shift and so I decided to get started, there was no point in waiting around for a few more minutes when I could be doing something much more productive. Heading over to the counter, I was more than surprised to see a twelve-pack of chocolate glazed doughnuts resting next to the till. It must have been Oksana, she must have bought some doughnuts for me. I smirked. It was just one more reason why my workplace felt like a home — nobody brought me doughnuts when I was in my apartment. In fact, I was the only one who lived there. So, instead of stuffing my face with chocolatey goodness, I was practically isolated from the rest of Russia.

Shaking my head, I cleared away all of my gloomy thoughts and went back to the matter in hand. Doughnuts. I was about to pick one up, when I was interrupted by a high-pitched giggle coming from one of the changing-rooms, which was closely followed by a much deeper, gruffer chuckle. A million answers rushed through my head at once, but I could only focus on one possibility. _Oh god._ Blushing furiously, I grabbed a chocolate glazed ring and left to find Oksana. She would know how to handle my little _predicament_.

"Oksana!" I whispered, entering the back room where I knew she'd be.

Sure enough, Oksana was sitting on the carpeted floor, cutting up pieces of old fabric with her dress-making scissors, when I reached her. Licking the left-over chocolate off my fingers, I whistled at my boss and tried to motion for her to follow me. However, she didn't seem to understand. I rolled my eyes. Walking over to her, I lowered my voice so that the couple wouldn't be able to hear me from outside.

"I have a small problem," I admitted, causing her to instantly drop her shears. "There are some people out there, in the changing rooms, and I believe that they're doing— inappropriate things. Things that are mentally scarring for _me, _let alone a child."

Huffing grumpily, the older woman started to mutter things about public displays of affection as she got up from the floor and headed into the front room. I almost laughed, however, when I ran straight into Oksana's back, it made me forget all about my amusement. Something was wrong. Lifting up a shaky hand, she pointed at something across the room from us.

Following her finger, I was certainly surprised to see who was stood in front of it.

He looked exactly the same as he did three days ago. His dark brown, slightly curly hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck, emphasising the shape of his masculine jaw. He was striking. In fact, the only physical imperfection he had was the shape of his nose, but that small quirk only made him even more beautiful to me. Light stubble ran along his jaw and neck, which told me that he hadn't chosen to shave this morning. It was a good choice as it made him ruggedly handsome and almost irresistible. Shaking my head, I tried to remind myself that I was mad at him. However, just like years ago, I instantly started to drown in his sparkly, chocolate brown eyes.

_Dimitri Belikov. _

I blushed, thinking about what happened three days ago after I had slapped him.

Seeing as I had been looking after Paul for the day, I decided to do the Belikova women a favour and drop him off myself instead of waiting for them to come and pick him up. After all, I was the one with a car and it was a long walk for them. Initially, I had expected a short conversation, and maybe a cup of coffee at the most. However, what I hadn't expected was the appearance of Dimitri. It had been a whole four years since I'd last seen him in person. Of course, seeing him had been a complete shock, but I never meant to _slap _him. Honestly, it had just happened. After attacking him, I had rightfully decided to flee. Even though I was mad at him, I shouldn't have attacked him.

"Roza," he whispered like a prayer, making me want to shiver and scream at the same time.

However, before I could say or do anything, _Tasha _came running out of the changing rooms in an awful yellow dress that didn't suit her skin tone or her hair colour at all. Looking between them both, at their flushed faces and guilty smiles, I soon put two and two together. I tried to meet Oksana's eyes, to tell her what they had been up to. However, she was too busy staring at Dimitri with admiration and adoration plain to see on her features. I sighed. It was time to take matters into my own hands. I opened my mouth and—

"Dimitri," she whined annoyingly, earning a glare from both me and him. "I don't like _any _of the dresses in here. I _want _to go somewhere else."

Glancing at us apologetically, Dimitri turned to address his spoilt girlfriend. However, before he could reprimand her or give her what she wanted, I gallantly stepped in.

"Hi, Tasha!" I greeted joyously, waving at her to emphasise my excitement. "I get why you don't like any of the dresses in here. It's a crime really, there are no designer clothes in here. I mean, they don't even have _Armani_."

I didn't mean to mock her, I really didn't. Because deep down, I was a nice person, a person who would never try to intentionally hurt another human being. However, for some unknown reason, I just couldn't bite my tongue when it came to Tasha. It was probably because she was involved with Dimitri, and so the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head.

Hearing my sarcasm, both Oksana and Dimitri glanced over at me, their lips pursed into severe lines. Tasha, however, was the only person in the room who didn't realise that I was insulting her. Nodding along with me, she muttered her agreements and started to pine over something — most-likely an article of _Armani_ clothing. Therefore, seeing that she was unaffected, I gave in and simply stepped around her to head towards Dimitri. I wasn't going to waste my time ridiculing her, if she didn't even understand when I was doing it. There was no fun in that.

"I'm sorry about the way I acted the other night, comrade." I apologised sincerely, hoping he would realise that I meant every word. "I was just _really _shocked to see you."

I watched, my heart soaring like a bird, as his mouth turned up at the corners into a breath-taking, knee-buckling smile. Just by using his old nickname, I had managed to put _that _on his already-handsome face. It felt like such an achievement, when really it was something so simple. I shook my head. It wasn't right to feel that way about him. It was deadly. Suicidal. Dimitri didn't want or need me any more; he was a famous celebrity, and he had Tasha.

"It's quite all right," he replied, trying to be nonchalant. However, his shining and excited eyes betrayed his true feelings. "You didn't do any permanent damage."

Vaguely aware that Tasha was still in the room, I reached forwards and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, embracing him for the first time in years. Dimitri did nothing at first, he was probably too shocked — shocked that I had slapped him just three days ago and was now hugging him friendlily. However, he soon sobered up and wrapped his arms around my body, returning my hug and pulling me closer into his chest. Being this close to him, I could strongly smell the delicious and mouth-watering scent of his aftershave. It was just how I remembered. I sighed.

Before, I had said that the shop felt like home. However, being in his arms again, well, _that _was home.

Hearing Tasha clear her throat, I pulled away from my old friend and grinned up at him. "This doesn't mean that I forgive you, by the way." I said. "I still hate you."

"I hate you too, Roza." He smirked and annoyingly ruffled my hair. I sighed. His actions reminded me of the good old days, the days where he wasn't a famous superstar.

In reality, I hadn't forgiven Dimitri, not really. Every time my eyes met his, I felt brief, but sharp, stabs of pain — reminders of the night that he left Russia. In my opinion, we would never be the same people again. He wasn't the same and I wasn't the same. We had both changed, and there was nothing wrong with that. However, we didn't connect in the same way. No, our connection definitely wasn't the same, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why it was different. I shook my head, realising that my mind was analysing something totally irrelevant. Even though I hadn't forgiven him, it didn't mean that I couldn't be civil. We had been through so much together, after all.

As though he knew what I was thinking, Dimitri's usually cheerful smile turned watery and sad. It was strange to see him like that, regretful and filled with sorrow. In fact, it was so odd that I almost forgave him, right then and there; I wanted and _needed_ to fix him. However, in reality, I wasn't ready for that. I was still infuriated, still upset. I smirked. Even though I was upset, I continued to stay strong both mentally and physically, and that was all that mattered to me. It was the strength that I was renowned for, but at the same time, I felt weak, especially when he was right in front of me.

Stepping out of his arms, I rose my eyebrows at the seething Tasha and then sent Dimitri a knowing look. He definitely had a _keeper_ there, that was for sure. Pivoting on my heels, I stalked away from the happy couple and took my position behind the till. I didn't want to watch them together, loved-up and adorable, just like they were on television. Oksana, who was still starstruck, eyed the empty space in front of Dimitri hungrily and didn't hesitate to leap towards him.

Staring up at him coyly, she extended her hand, her cheeks reddening with blush. I almost laughed. It was hilarious watching my middle-aged boss get gooey over a famous singer, especially since she had a loving husband, who doted on her hand and foot. Being ever the gentleman, Dimitri graciously accepted it and smiled his trademark, knee-buckling smile. However, before my boss could say anything to him and theoretically embarrass herself, I speedily interrupted.

"Since you're not buying anything, I think that it's time you leave." I stated coldly, my voice cutting through him like a blade.

As I watched him flinch, I mentally scolded myself. I didn't mean to be that harsh, but I hated seeing them together. It was hard enough seeing them on the television, happy and in their own little bubble, let alone in person. Nodding his head at me curtly, Dimitri grabbed onto Tasha's elbow and steered her out of the shop. I gulped and watched their retreating figures. I had probably just ruined the chances of us ever becoming friends again. My heart began to beat quickly in my chest, thudding loudly against my ribcage - so loud that I was sure Oksana could hear it. However, before I began to analyse it, I was stopped, preoccupied with watching my boss' actions.

Grabbing onto her chest, Oksana sighed dreamily and closed her eyes. I chuckled under my breath. She was acting like a teenager. Somehow noticing my breathy chuckles, Oksana turned and glared, but fortunately didn't reprimand me. I was going to get away with it.

"I'm going to sort the couple out then." She informed me and began to head towards the changing rooms.

I was going to tell her not to bother, but before I could, a teenage couple ran out of the changing rooms, giggling and blushing as they went. With barely a 'thank you' over their shoulders, the love-birds left the shop and steered towards, presumably, another changing room in a different shop. Even though I didn't want to feel it, I suddenly felt hope swell inside of me. It hadn't been Tasha and Dimitri in the changing room. It had been the teenage couple. Shaking my head, I tried to quell the hope that was rising inside of me. Even though they weren't the ones in the changing room, it didn't mean that they weren't in love. It just meant that they were more picky about where they carried out their romantic escapades.

I sighed. It was going to be a long shift.

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**I feel really strange about this chapter. I think it's because I'm a bit...erm...exhausted, I guess. However, I'm going to put this up anyway, because I can always change it later if I want to. Yes, so there you go! I am now OFFICIALLY, 100% DONE WITH EXAMS! Until March, anyway. :D  
**

**Oh, and I'm certain that you're going to LOVE the next chapter. *winky hint face***

**Guest:** Hey, thanks for your review and I'm glad you enjoyed the flashbacks. The reason why the story is called 'Hear You Me' is because it's my kind of interpretation of the song by Jimmy Eat World. So yeah, go check out Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World.


	7. I Never Told You

**Hey you guys! I hope you enjoy this. (You know what, this is actually _quite _quick by my standards). Thanks for all of your fantastic reviews again! You all deserve ten thousand Dimitris. We surpassed 100 reviews! *HAPPY DANCE*  
**

**Anyway, I'm not too thrilled about my writing, but it's pretty late here. However, I thought I'd update anyway because I just bought all of the 'The Mortal Instruments' books. So, I'm belatedly reading them all this week. Oh, has anybody read The Indigo Spell yet? (No spoilers please). I just love it so far, I haven't finished it yet though. I decided to do a bit of writing instead, because I don't want it to end. :( **

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**Chapter Seven**

**"I Never Told You"**

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**_Saturday 8th December 2012  
Roshcha, Russia  
Dimitri Belikov_**

Glaring at the credit card bill in my hand, I practically shook with fury. I couldn't believe that Tasha had spent _that _much money on an article of clothing. One. Freaking. Dress. It was absolutely ridiculous. Stuffing the piece of paper in my duster's pocket, I pinched the bridge of my nose in between my thumb and forefinger. However, that wasn't enough to calm me down. I had to let off a bit steam somehow, but I didn't have a clue what to do. Suddenly, my eyes brightened. I had an idea.

"Mama," I called up the stairs, not bothering to inform my girlfriend about my plan. "I'm going for a walk, I'll be back before dinner."

She shouted something back to me, however, I was out of the door before I could even register her words. I just needed to cool down, and fast.

Practically sprinting down the pavement, I headed in the general direction of town, not bothered about the amount of people that would be there. It was surprising really — how everybody in Roshcha respected my wishes for privacy. Sure, they still gaped at me sometimes. However, nobody took any sneaky photographs or, at least, I had never caught them doing it. Glancing over my shoulder, I realised that I wasn't in viewing distance of my home any more, and so I slowed down to a walk. I wasn't going to go shopping, especially not with the credit card bill nestled inside of my pocket, but that didn't mean I couldn't just take a leisurely walk.

Or, it seemed, I couldn't.

Feeling a body collide with mine, I was unaffected. I mean, I was six foot seven, which meant that it was pretty hard for something to knock me over. However, when I looked down, I saw that the other person wasn't so fortunate. Sprawled out on the floor, Rose was busy fumbling around, trying to pick up all of the things that had fallen out of her bag. Huffing to myself quietly, I reluctantly crouched down and tried to help her, but stopped when she started hissing and snatching items out of my hands. She obviously hadn't gotten over Tuesday morning, though I wasn't sure what was wrong with her then either.

Even though she was unbelievably infuriated with me, she still looked amazing. Her dark brown, almost black hair was tousled by the wind, making it even more beautiful, though I knew that if she had a mirror, she would have hated it. Getting up from my crouched position, I dusted off my knees and offered her my hand. However, unsurprisingly, she denied it and got up herself, probably because she was embarrassed to have fallen in the first place.

"Are you stalking me, Roza?" I joked, wanting to rile her up a bit — just like the good old days. "Because, if you wanted to hang out with me, you could've just called. Honestly, I need to get away from Tasha."

Rose appeared to be outraged, however she didn't storm away like I'd expected, no, something was making her stay glued to her spot. Curiosity.

"Why do you need to get away from Tasha?" She asked, totally unabashed. "I mean, you two are all loved up most of the time. Is there some trouble in paradise?"

"There never was a paradise."

Shaking her head, Rose sighed loudly and stepped around me. However, I couldn't let her get away. I needed somebody to talk to, somebody I could trust, somebody familiar. Grabbing onto her elbow, I whirled her around so that she was facing me and didn't bother to slacken my grip. I knew she would probably hate me for keeping her captive, but I would deal with that later. Right at that moment, I needed a friendly — kind of — face.

With a surprising amount of strength, Rose tugged her arm out of my grip and scowled at me. Again, that look appeared in her eyes — the look that said she was about to slap me. However, she restrained herself from doing so by clenching and unclenching her fists. She never was one for public displays.

"What do you even want with me, Dimitri?" She hissed, her eyes slitted like a cat's. "Because, honestly, I don't see why you even bother with me any more."

That certainly shocked me. Why wouldn't I bother with her? She was beautiful, she was fierce. She knew me unlike anybody else. She was my best friend. Rose, it seemed, didn't quite see herself clearly. It didn't surprise me, though — she always had been a modest person.

She didn't understand how much I admired her. It was something that I should have told her a long time ago. Like, before I left for LA. However, I let my nerves and moralities get the best of me back then. I should have just told her what I wanted to that night, the night I left Russia. Looking at her now — her colourful cheeks, her large, doe-like eyes — well, I couldn't _not _tell her my feelings.

Taking a step towards Rose, I placed a hand on her shoulder and lowered my voice. I didn't want anybody to overhear what I was about to say.

"I bother with you because you're special." I began, taking a deep breath. "I was going to say so much that night, much more than just goodbye. However, given the circumstances, I didn't think that it was very fair on you. So, I chickened out."

"Well, what were you going to say?" She urged, her expression red with an ardent anger.

Surveying my surroundings, I suddenly realised how many people were staring at our spectacle. I growled under my breath. So much for that aforementioned privacy. Admittedly, the street was far too public for this particular conversation. Grabbing onto Rose's elbow, I dragged her down the street and ushered her into a small telephone box. Seeing as three of the glass windows were covered with advertisement posters, I decided that it was private enough, though it certainly could have been better.

Placing her hands on her hips, Rose glared up at me and raised both of her eyebrows, still unable to raise just one. "Well then?" Rose prompted, nodding her head for emphasis.

I opened my mouth and then closed it again, shaking my head hopelessly. It was hard for me to confess my feelings, that was for sure. I felt like I couldn't tell her, not in a phone-box anyway. I should have said it a long time ago, before all of my life became hectic. There was no guessing what Rose would do when she found out. She would probably hate me forever, even more than she already did, seeing as my confession was hardly fair on her. I mean, I was leaving for LA in two weeks. However, Rose did not understand, nor could she hear, my internal reasoning. Slapping me on the chest like she had four years ago, Rose began to growl and spit out her words furiously.

"You are such a coward, Dimitri!" She yelled, her voice higher than a kite. "You couldn't tell me when you were eighteen, and you can't tell me now, even though you're twenty two years old! You know, sometimes I—"

Seeing her white-hot anger, I couldn't stand it any longer – her insults, her jibes . . . enough was enough. Caught up in the passionate moment, I grabbed the back of her neck and roughly pulled her towards me, fastening my lips to hers. I was angry myself. _How dare she call me a coward? _Moving my mouth against her dormant lips, I was certainly surprised when she started to kiss me back. Suddenly, in that second, I didn't care that I was cheating on Tasha. All I could see, all I could feel was my Roza. Deep down, sure, I knew that what we were doing was wrong. However, I couldn't stop myself nor did I want to. The feeling was bliss, and I had been waiting for the moment since I began my adolescent years. There was no stopping me now.

Somehow, during our intense kissing session, I had managed to back her up against the telephone box's wall — though it probably wasn't that hard to do, seeing as the box was _very_ cramped. Allowing my tongue to gain entrance to her mouth, Rose forcefully parted our lips and sighed, causing me to shiver with pleasure. She fisted her hands into my hair and, in a great show of restraint, managed to pull away from me, panting and blushing rosily as she did.

"T–Tasha," she stuttered, her eyes wide with surprise. "What about Tasha?"

Picking up a wayward strand of hair between my fingers, I pinned it behind her ear and smiled dreamily. Rose, however, seemed deadly serious. Her lips were pressed into a tight, severe line and her eyes could have quite easily pierced my soul. Suddenly, I feared for my life. Swallowing loudly, I reassuringly kissed her forehead once more and backed off slightly. It was odd, I thought, being able to nonchalantly kiss her. My feelings were, finally, out in the open.

"Tasha, she's..." I trailed off. "I'm with Tasha because I _have _to be, not because I want to be. Look, I'm only with her because Adrian, my manager, deems it to be good for my career. Honestly, I only went along with it because I didn't feel like I had a chance with you, what with us being an ocean apart."

"You let somebody order you around like that?" She asked, her expression dumb-founded and voice high. "You let someone dictate whom you have a relationship with?"

"It's hard, being in this industry. You have to play the game. You have to build a reputation. Tasha . . . well, Tasha helped me to advance in the media; she gave me more publicity." I sighed. It made me sound like such a fake person, though, I suppose I was. "It doesn't matter, though. Tasha also uses our relationship to get modelling jobs."

Sighing, Rose shook her head and stepped away from me, muttering about how it still wasn't right. Coming to my senses slightly, I silently agreed with her. I didn't want to cheat on Tasha, even though our relationship was more for the public than anything. I just wasn't raised that way. Although, I did have conflicting feelings. At the same time, there was nothing I wanted more than to lean in and kiss Rose again. After experiencing _that, _I didn't think that I could ever forget it or control myself around her.

However, that sort of exchange with her, well, it was something I couldn't do, at least not yet. I felt like such a fraud, a phoney. I felt like, and admittedly was, an ass. Before I tried to pursue Rose again, I needed to sort out my relationship with Tasha.

Ashamed of myself, I lowered my eyes and offered her an apologetic look. I could see that she was uncomfortable with what had just happened, maybe even pained. Fully aware of mine and Tasha's relationship, she'd enthusiastically allowed me to kiss her, which had to be eating her alive. Cheating was something that she hated most ardently, especially since that horrible incident with Jesse Zeklos. Now, she had willingly partaken in it. I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. After all, it wasn't entirely her fault. In fact, she wasn't really to blame at all. I was the one who kissed her first.

"You don't have to feel bad, Rose." I told her sincerely. "I was the one who kissed you, besides, it's about time I broke it off with Tasha. It's not fair on either of us to continue the relationship, neither of us love each other."

Rose smiled slightly, but still looked rather upset. Pushing her bag's strap further up her shoulder, she nodded at me once, unable to meet my eyes, before leaving the telephone box completely. It seemed that she just had to get away, and I couldn't fault her for that. Being able to breathe for the first time since the kiss, I slumped against the left wall and rubbed my forehead uncomfortably. I couldn't quite believe that I had kissed Rose. It was a bold move – even for me – but I didn't regret it, not a single bit. It was an amazing experience and it opened my eyes even more. I didn't harbour any true feelings for Tasha, and it was time to stop pretending that I did.

Resolved and brave, I straightened up and didn't hesitate to curl my fingers around the box's cold and dirty handle. I had to get moving, before I changed my mind. Throwing the glass door open, I strode out onto the street and hurriedly made my way home, not caring about how I probably looked manic, what with my dishevelled hair and everything. No, I was too busy trying to figure out a plan. It was time to talk to Tasha. I needed to straighten things out, I needed to be fair to her _and_ to me.

I needed to be free.

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**So yeah, I'm not too sure about this chapter. However, I'll change it tomorrow if you guys think it's too confusing. I just thought I'd update, seeing this was just lying about in my Doc Manager. So...  
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**I'm not too sure about this story either. I planned it all out, but it's not coming together as I'd hoped. Meh, oh well. Dimitri's coming across as a downright jerk, but hopefully I'll be able to redeem him in the next few chapters. **


	8. I Didn't Like You Anyway

**HEEY-YO! I finished The Indigo Spell and it was amazing! It made me want to write a Sydrian story. I'm really experiencing some Sydrian feels here. (I'm harbouring so many of these 'feels' that I just... can't...) Anyway, I'd like to thank you for your reviews again. Amazing! Here's a quick update!  
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**Guest: Haha! I know, but 'however' is the best connective everrr! In all seriousness though, thanks for pointing it out to me. I never realised how much I use it until now! On the other hand, *wink* I'd like to thank you for your comments on my pacing and such. Thanks for reviewing and for the pointer! :D **

**P.S. Sorry if there are any errors. I only proof-read it once. **

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**Chapter Eight**

**"I Didn't Like You Anyway"**

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**_Saturday 8th December 2012  
Roshcha, Russia  
Dimitri Belikov_**

Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I curled my fingers around the door knob and entered my family home. It was time to tell Tasha the truth. I needed to split up with her once and for all. Sure, it was a big step, and could possibly ruin my career, but I would deal with Adrian and the media later. It was decided; I was going to live my life the way _I _wanted to, not the way others had planned out for me. Scraping my shoes along the welcome mat, I got rid of any dirt that was on the bottom of my old leather boots and headed into the kitchen. That was, undoubtedly, where my family were hanging around.

And, I wasn't wrong.

Bustling about the kitchen, Olena, my mother, was hurriedly throwing together some black bread. I smiled. Black bread was my favourite type of food, and she'd made so much of it for me over the years — so much so that she didn't even need to think about the process any more. Next to her, Viktoria was leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at my mother intently as she kneaded the dough with both of her hands. Her large, brown eyes never wavered from the dough. It seemed as though she, for some unbeknownst reason, was completely enraptured by our mother's baking.

"Hey," I greeted them both, nodding in their direction. However, instead of conversing with them further, I went straight to the fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of mineral water. Unscrewing the lid, I brought the lip up to my mouth and took a greedy sip. Seeing as I had run straight home from town, I was unimaginably thirsty after losing so much water from my pores. My nerves weren't helping either — all of the tell-tale signs were there, my palms were sweating, my stomach was whirling. I didn't particularly _want _to face Tasha, but I knew that I _had _to. Still, nothing seemed to make me any less anxious.

As the cool liquid ran down my scorching-hot throat, I had to stop myself from groaning out loud. It was such a refreshing feeling, but more than that, it helped me to calm down. Taking a long, deep breath, I shut the fridge door and leant against it nonchalantly.

"Have either of you seen Tasha?" I asked, crossing my arms sternly. "I need to talk to her."

Viktoria, registering the hard tone of my voice, perked up slightly and whirled around. Even though Tasha and I had been in Russia for eight days, my youngest sister still didn't like my girlfriend. She hadn't bonded with her any. Therefore, if I showed even a hint of doubt about my relationship with the model, Viktoria was always quick to pounce. I couldn't blame her, though. If our roles were reversed, I would be as — if not more — protective and hate-riddled as her. I was very defensive about my siblings and my family on a whole.

"Yes," she practically purred in delight. "She's up in your room. I think she's doing her hair. It actually surprised me, really, because I always thought that somebody else did it for her."

In fact, somebody did usually do it for her, but I didn't want to fuel my sister's hatred further. It wasn't an appealing emotion; I was used to seeing glee on my sister's face, not the scowl that was currently marring her features. Nodding my thanks, I clutched the neck of my bottle and headed towards the stairs. Again, that lump appeared in my throat. However, I wasn't upset. No, I was anxious.

Breaking it off with Tasha would trigger a lot of other things — just like a row of dominoes, falling one after the other. Seeing as she was loved by millions, the media and public would undoubtedly turn on me. They would print untrue and disgusting stories in the tabloids, no doubt calling me a womaniser and other insulting names. The people in Los Angeles would heckle me as I walked around street corners; parents would no longer allow their children to consider me a role-model. Most of all though, my friend and manager, Adrian Ivashkov, would probably disown me. He had warned me a countless amount of times about what our separation would do to my career.

It was a sticky business — the singing industry. A few years ago, I was spotted by the paparazzi on a casual outing with Tasha. Of course, once they had the candid pictures in their clutches, they saw the perfect opportunity to write stories about how we were together. Stories which, at the time, were totally fictitious. Then, seeing how my popularity rose after the articles were published, Adrian encouraged me to pursue a relationship with her. A real relationship.

Pausing outside of my bedroom door, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, taking a minute to think through what I was about to do. Inside of my head, a small part of me started to wonder whether it was worth it, whether my happiness was worth risking the career that I'd worked so hard for. Then, the image of a beautiful, awe-inspiring face flickered behind my closed eyelids.

Rose.

Her skin was the colour of the inside of an almond and I knew that, if I were to reach out and touch her cheek, it would be as soft as cashmere. Staring back at me hauntingly, her dark brown, doe-like eyes were so large that she appeared to be startled, but I knew better. There was a glint in them too, a spark that conveyed her fiery and passionate personality that I admired so much. The feature that amazed me the most though, apart from her brilliant character, were her lengthy brown tresses, which were so dark in colour that they were almost black. Even though her image was a figment of my imagination, I ached to reach out and brush my fingers through her hair. I knew it would be soft, and that it would smell like vanilla. My eyes flew open. Suddenly, I knew.

I would not, nor would I ever, regret my decision. Because, after splitting up with Tasha, I would finally be able to profess my feelings to Rose, and guiltlessly too. It was something that I should have done years ago, before my life was mapped out by the higher power that was also known as my record deal. I had kissed her, but it was a kiss full of pent-up anger, which was the wrong kind of passion. It wasn't enough for me. I wanted Rose to know that I . . . I loved her.

Braver than before, I turned the brass door handle and stepped briskly into my room. Tasha, who was indeed straightening her hair out, jumped slightly at my entrance, but turned around nonetheless. Seeing that it was only me, her lips curled up slightly and, even though I didn't want to believe it, she actually looked _happy_ to see me.

"Tasha," I sighed and sat down on my bed. "We need to talk."

Having picked up on the tone of my voice, the grin dropped off her face immediately. "Okay," she wheezed, spinning around on the stool so that she was facing me.

"I don't love you," I stated, my confession quick and hurtful — just like ripping off a band-aid. "I'm sorry, but I don't. When we first started this relationship, I thought . . . well . . . I thought that I'd grow to love you. I've been unfair to both of us. All of this time, I've been pretending that I love you whilst, really, my heart has been here the whole time, in Roshcha. Tasha," I sighed, knowing that I sounded like a jerk. "I don't mean to come across as an ass, believe me, I don't. But, I think it's time we end this now. It's not fair on either of us to continue pretending that we love each other, when really we don't. We both deserve to be happy, we both—"

"Don't," she interrupted, placing her hand over my mouth. "What's brought this on?"

For some reason, as I stared into her icy blue eyes, I had no qualms about telling her my secrets. Even though I didn't love her, she had been by side for years. That had to count for something. I didn't realise then what a mistake it was to trust her.

"I found someone, Tasha." I confessed, and I knew that my eyes were probably warmer just from thinking about _my Roza._ "Someone that I love wholeheartedly. Years ago, I let her slip through my fingers, but I'm not going to let that happen again. Please understand."

Shooting up from the stool, my newly ex-girlfriend ripped the straighteners out of the socket and pulled her suitcase out from underneath the bed. Her face was filled with an irrefutable rage, which totally baffled me. Tasha and I never had a close relationship, so I didn't understand why she was so furious. We had always just staged our love for the cameras, for the public. She _had_ to understand. She was supposed to be overjoyed, happy to be free and find a love of her own. Yet, I could practically see the red-hot, angry steam shooting out of her ears whilst she packed away her belongings.

"You may not have loved me," she sniffed, zipping up the suitcase loudly. "But I did — love you, I mean."

That certainly shocked me. Jumping off the bed, I stood up and headed over to the corner of the room so that she had some more space. If she did truly love me, my words would have probably destroyed her. Looking at her though, she just seemed cold and angry — not hurt in the least. In that moment, I knew. Tasha didn't love me, not really, but she thought she did. I sighed. As soon as she found her soulmate — her Rose — she'd understand, because I most certainly wasn't her man and I wouldn't be able to make her as happy as him.

I was about to tell her as much, but before I could, she span around and pointed an accusatory finger at me. My mouth fell open at the sight of her. Her pupils were fully-dilated and as black as her hair. Her mouth, which was usually pulled up into a smug smile, was now narrow and stern. Her whole persona was different, but I couldn't figure out why. Then, I realised that she was no longer the indifferent princess that she always had been. No, she was showing her emotions. She cared about our relationship, about me. It made me feel guilty, but I soon swallowed it down. Later on in life, she'd thank me.

"So, you love someone else." Tasha yelled, jabbing that finger at me. "Whilst you were with her, Dimitri, gallivanting around and doing who knows what, I was here trying to make a good impression for your sake. You're not a man. You're not good. You're just a rotten liar."

"I didn't cheat on you," I assured her, but my voice wavered as I remembered what had happened in the telephone-box. "I mean . . . I . . . ."

"Just as I thought," she said harshly, her voice loud enough for my family to hear. "You did cheat on me! I loved you, Dimitri, but you cheated on me."

Grabbing onto the suitcase's handle, Tasha threw it to the floor and began to roll it towards the door. I didn't stop her from leaving. Even though I felt horrible, I knew that it was for the best. Both for me and for her. Looking back once over her shoulder, my ex-girlfriend threw open the door and left — left my house, left my life — and I didn't, not even in the slightest, feel upset.

"You will understand later; you will thank me, even." I whispered, but she was already gone.

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**So, Tasha is gone! For now. Mwahahahahaha. Yes, so I hoped you enjoyed it. I can't wait for the next chapter, so I'm going to start writing it now.  
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**By the way, I feel like writing a one-shot. So, if any of you guys want me to write anything about a song, a quote, or anything really . . . well, just ask. I need some inspiration. :D **


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